


Cursed Maiden

by fairyladyspring (angelladyspring)



Category: Winx Club
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-13 06:24:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18935242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelladyspring/pseuds/fairyladyspring
Summary: For she was lonely, longing for something more. Seeking light and color in her life, a girl brings despair wherever she goes





	Cursed Maiden

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve purposefully written the fic without references to a name for the most part. Let’s make it a game, post the part(s) which made you guess which character this is in the comments.

Where she walked, darkness soon followed. It was her curse, bestowed upon her on the day she had been born. Her mother died during childbirth. Her father soon turned to drinking, her grandparents turned their backs on the family. Those in her village who gave the poor girl  food  fell sick only days after. Plants died when the young maiden took their fruits, crops died, when she ate from them. She was only seven when the village folk send her and her father off somewhere else. 

“Father, why did we leave?” she would ask him. But he was working or drinking, not listening to her. He had never answered her second question either. “Father, why do they speak about curses?” she asked when the townsfolk spoke in hushed voices after weeks had passed and people fell ill when she begged for food and they gave it to her. She was called a witch. “Father, why do I have to leave?” she would ask him when he send her off somewhere else when she was nine.

“Will you be my friend?” she asked the kids her  age, but their parents would  glare at her, make her go away. Every village she hiked to had heard of her. The evil witch, the demon spawn, the cursed child,  Satan’s daughter where all names she could recite perfectly three years later. 

She might  have grown used to  being  alone, but it did not make her any less lonely.  She would watch the other children play, watch them grow and share their first kiss.  The pang in her heart grew until she hid in the forest, finding cave with no life when the trees would die.  But the cave was dark and  when night fell, the moon was drawing her, calling out to her. “Will you be my friend?” she’d ask the  moon, but  the moon could not answer. 

She’d tell the moon her stories, how her days went. The moon would  listen, and she’d offer to listen to the moon’s  stories, but no tale was to be heard.  “I want to fly, so I can visit you” she told her  friend. “You are my only friend”  Except, the moon wasn’t, she learned after years . The fair light would offer her comfort, but it was not enough. The moon was not alive , it could not be a friend.  So she started wandering again. 

Even the animals stayed clear of her and flee when she came.  Birds would stop singing and remain silent  as long as she was there, taking to the sky and she wished she could follow.  Even if the moon was not alive, she could not shake her wish to fly. Up in the  sky, where clouds looked fluffy.  _ I want to  _ _ feel them _ she thought, cursing herself for not having wings. 

As the years passed , she forgot her name, forgot what her father had called her once upon a time. Yet she did not care.  She still remembered the names others had given her.  Satan’s bride,  death bringer , cursed maiden, dark witch.  _ Is it true? _ She often wondered.  The sun would burn her easily. Red patches of skin showed everyone god hated her or so  people claimed. Time went by and she wondered less if it was true. 

She would watch people fall in love, marry. Her heart ached.  _ Why can’t I fall in love? _ But she knew the answer, she was unlovable. Her father had hated her, her mother would have as well. She was her mother’s murderer after all.  Hatred stared at her in people’s faces.  _ I can’t go back to the cave _ she wanted to scream at them. Why  won’t they love me, she thought, despair raging in her. 

She’d cry silently at night, hiding herself away, hugging herself for warmth.  She did not want much, a bed, warm meals, a friend, a companion, someone at her side. Someone to love her.  Not even dogs would love her. She’d continue watching others, stayed in the shadows, kept to the dark .  And she learned, learned their secrets, learned their stories. 

No one looked at her, saw her. She was surprised, when an elderly widow looked at her. “Has my time already come?” the widow asked, and the villagers knew she was there. Except, the widow smiled at her, reaching out to her and captured her cheek. “I’ve lived so long. I want to see my husband again”  she  said  and she would accompany her out of the village. Smiles graced the younger woman’s face. 

Finally, she had found a friend, someone who would be at her side. “Thank you” she  whispered, and the woman shook her head. “Don’t thank me, I have to thank you”  still the widow smiled. “I’m ready to die” she continued and the younger one’s heart broke. “Please, don’t leave me” she begged but the widow would shake her head. “All life must come to an end , Lady of Death” A sob died in her throat and the widow smiled full of pity.  “It’s a burden but you are strong enough to carry it” she wanted to tell her she was  not, but the widow  walked away and into the light. 

The light looked beautiful, she thought as it faded before her eyes.  She wanted to see it again. She followed where  she was guided, where her heart told her to go. She saw many elderly people, some begged her, some agreed it was their time, some did not want to believe.  The Lady of Death did not care, she got to see the light. When she brought them to the light, it washed over  her, and worries would quiet down. She had found her purpose. 

And for once in her life, rumours about her stopped bothering her.  She did not care about the darkness following her, closed herself of to the despair in the villages she came across. She had her task . All life must come to an end and to live, she had to take lives.  Life is a gift, something to not last.  If no one died, no one else could live. She had to keep the circle, birth, life, death. It was her calling , her purpose, the reason she lived. 

She was Darcy, the Lady of Death. 


End file.
